To Save The World
by Counternet
Summary: The newest number leads Finch and Reese to an elusive bartender, who is almost a ghost, Desmond Miles. But the powerful Abstergo Industries also has an invested interest in Desmond. And a mysterious third party led by a cryptic man named Bill keeps showing up to complicate things. Soon Desmond, Reese, and Finch will be sucked into a war they didn't know existed.
1. Chapter 1

An End to Hiding

"We found him", said the voice on the phone. "Wheels up in 160 hours."

Meanwhile, in California, "We found him in, Bill. He's working as a bartender in New York. We can be there tomorrow." "Let's move", said Bill.

While in New York, "We have a new number, Mr. Reese, one Desmond Miles, who has been masquerading as a Dan Thompson for the past several years. In fact, there is more information on file for Dan Thompson than for Mr. Miles. You can find him working a bar on 49th street."

"Any reasons why someone would be intending to harm Mr. Miles, Finch?"

"No, Mr. Reese," Harold Finch, the voice in his ear bud said. "In fact, the only thing that makes this guy stand out is that he is almost a ghost. He has no phone, no email, and no social networking accounts. The only thing with his name on it is his motorcycle license, and both that and his bank account are in the name of Daniel D. Thompson. The only reason I could connect the two is traffic cam footage of him without his helmet matched against old photos from Child Services. I'm currently working on opening his old foster care records and seeing if there is anything in there. Until then, Mr. Reese, I can't tell you anything you don't already know."

"I'll keep you informed."

Reese walked into the bar. Desmond noticed immediately. It was his job to observe everything he could about a customer and try to predict their needs. The man was completely overdressed. Nobody wore a full suit to this bar. But a suit like that meant a wallet to match, and Desmond got by on tips.

"What would you like, sir?" he yelled at the well-dressed man.

"I'll get a boiler-maker" replied the man.

"Navy" observed Desmond. Most people didn't just tip for quick drinks. People came to the bar when they were down and lonely, and if the bartender could cheer them up, or stimulate them in conversation, they parted with their money more easily.

"Army", replied the man, "A long time ago. But, I spent a lot of time on ships. I acquired an affinity for the Navy while I was there."

"Afghanistan?" asked Desmond.

"For my third and fourth tours", replied the man, but my first was in Bosnia, and the second in Serbia."

"How long were you in for?" asked Desmond.

"'96 through 2001. I got out for a few months, but after 9/11 I reenlisted. Served 2001 through 2006."

"How's civilian life been treating you?"

"Well, enough. I got a good job, and it makes people happy. I actually need to get back to it."

"The drink's on me" Reese left, leaving the money for the drink on the table as well as a lofty tip.

Once he was outside, Reese tapped his ear bud to open the line to Finch.

"Mr. Miles doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would have someone after him, Finch. Have you found anything?"

"Mr. Reese, Miles ran away from home when he was 16. He lived in several foster homes until he was 18 and then in a homeless shelter in San Diego until he changed his name at 19. A week later he arrived in New York and started over, presumably so that whatever he ran away from couldn't find him. This might be an ancient ghost coming back to haunt him."

The next day was uneventful until 2:15. It was 45 minutes after the end of the lunch rush and 45 minutes until the end of the work day. Desmond was inside, cleaning shot glasses when 6 men armed with police batons came in into the bar.

"Take him" said one of the men. But before anyone could move, the man in the suit from yesterday entered the room. He punched the first baton wielding man in the chin, knocking him out cold. The second thug attempted to strike Reese, but Reese kneed him, first in the stomach and then in the face, neutralizing him as well. Drawing his handgun, Reese shot the remaining thugs. They were only flesh wounds, but they still crippled the thugs.

"Desmond", he said urgently, "Come with me!"

"Who are you?" asked Desmond, as they darted out the door.

"A concerned third party", replied Reese sardonically.

They got in Reese's car and sped back to Harold, not noticing the man on the sidewalk taking a picture of the two.


	2. Taken

Taken

Desmond woke up groggy and confused. He was in a strange room, in what appeared to be a library, and it looked like either dusk or dawn outside. Standing up, he was suddenly aware of a small, strange looking, man in a suit, just like the other, who could only be his accomplice. But this man wore glasses, and in contrast of the other, who was broad, this man could only be defined as narrow.

"Where am I?" asked Desmond. "And, how long have I been out?"

"I can't tell you where we are, at least not yet", said the man. "You have been out for almost 30 hours. Mr. Reese was only supposed to give you have the vial."

"You should be more specific, Harold", said a gravelly voice in the corner.

Desmond jumped in shock. He had completely overlooked the man in the corner, who he thought was Mr. Reese. The man who had abducted him, the man who had probably saved his life, was wearing still wearing a suit.

"You always wear that thing?" Desmond asked.

"No, I have three or four others that look exactly like this."

"Well, could you at least tell me what time it is?"

This time the short man answered.

"About five till nine. Tomorrow we'll start investigating who those men were in the bar. Unless you know who they were, Mr. Miles?"

"I have no idea who those men were."

"The carried ID's for Abstergo Industries", Reese interjected. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"I might have seen an Abstergo commercial once" replied Desmond. "What could they want with me?"

"I don't know, Mr. Miles", replied the man who had to be Harold. "I don't know"

Mr. Reese was gone the entire next day, which left Desmond with Harold. Harold was extremely private and resented almost any question posed by Desmond. Eventually, Desmond grew tired of the oppressive silence and retired to his room.

The entire day passed this way and it was near seven o'clock when Desmond heard a frantic scurrying in the other room.

"Mr. Reese, we have a problem" he heard Harold say over the phone. "A new number has come up. It's mine!"

Just then, a flash grenade burst through the window, and armed men kicked burst through the door. Two men grabbed Desmond and began dragging him out the door.

"No", he yelled.

One of the men, obviously the leader because he didn't carry an assault rifle, walked across the room and stood over the stunned Harold. Drawing his side arm, he calmly took aim at Harold.

"No" yelled Desmond. As he began struggling with renewed vigor, he was struck in the head. The resulting jerk caused him to lock eyes with the assailant to his right. He recognized them immediately. He could never forget those eyes, those hurt, accusing eyes. They still haunted his dreams. Suddenly, everything clicked. He knew who these people were who the leader must be.

"Dad", he yelled. "Stop. Harold is on my side."

Looking back at him, Bill Miles lowered his mask.

"You don't understand who these people are, Desmond, what they mean to do."

"No", Desmond yelled back. "You don't understand. Some men tried to abduct me yesterday, and Harold and his partner saved me. They aren't who you think they are."

"They've deceived you, Desmond, it's what they do. They probably set up the whole thing so that you would trust them. That's how they operate, because outright control won't work on someone as stubborn and bull-headed as you."

"Dad, please", Desmond yelled desperately. "At least bring him with us. Give him a chance to explain his side of the story. To explain to you that he is not the mysterious enemy you have been preaching about all my life. Let him tell you who he is."

"We can't let him see where we're going, Desmond. What if you're wrong?"

"Harold, where is that sedative you used on me?"

"The safe is over behind you, and the combination is 33-29-19. Half a dose will knock me out for 12 hours."

"Give him three-fourths", Bill said, as Desmond opened the safe.

They zoomed away from the library while Reese was just four blocks away.


End file.
